


Places To Call Home

by foldingcranes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 08:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19103092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/pseuds/foldingcranes
Summary: This is the first time Lúcio has been assigned as a leader on a mission.





	Places To Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Solta A Batida Lucio fanzine.

Watchpoint: Iguazu is located in a densely forested area, secluded from more touristic areas in the Tríplice Fronteira and nestled between Brazil and Argentina. It’s been abandoned for years—since Overwatch started to fall apart and most of the watchpoints were closed due to lack of funding and the UN’s increasing restrictions. Yet, people who remember the work the watchpoint did for the area still bicker among themselves over how to call it: Iguazú or Iguaçu. An argument old as time, really, which surrounds everything that prospers and inhabits the frontier between Brazil and Argentina.

Lúcio laughs about it good-naturedly, happy to be home again since he decided to answer the recall and join the other agents at Overwatch’s current base of (still) illegal operations. The humid heat feels thick and heavy but, despite his time away, Lúcio is used to it. He welcomes it, even, enjoying the sense of familiarity, the warmth it brings to his chest along with all the green from the rainforest, the flavors of his childhood and the conversations in Portuguese. Still, despite the giddiness that comes from reconnecting to his roots and visiting his country after such a crazy year, he’s, well, a bit nervous.

This is the first time Lúcio has been assigned as a leader on a mission.

It’s not that he’s afraid of leadership, but— before, back in Rio de Janeiro, when he was rioting against the forces who threatened his home, he was mostly alone in his mission. And he got used to it— that is, to working on his own. Now, Lúcio is part of something bigger. Of something that, during a good part of his youth, seemed more like a legend, a whisper of a glorious part. Now, Lúcio is a page of a new chapter in it. As an agent of Overwatch.

Pharah and Tracer are good agents. They’re team players, they adapt quickly and they respect Lúcio’s input, orders, and viewpoints. The first days were hard for them, they struggled with the languages and the weather (well, mostly Tracer did) but they came out on top. It’s been days of breaking small skirmishes between human and Omnics and helping the communities living in the Triple Frontier to relearn to live in harmony, helping them renegotiate the peace. Helping them remember the way things were before Vishkar poisoned their communities and created rifts between them.

Pharah is quick and disciplined and Tracer is a good follower and supportive teammate. Their days at the Triple Frontier pass quickly as they step in when conflict escalates, fend off Vishkar agents and sit at the negotiation table with the community leaders and explore the old, abandoned watchpoint before going to sleep.

It all pays off when the communities come to an agreement and Omnics and humans embrace each other as they raise the Argentinian, Brazilian and Paraguayan flags. Lúcio’s chest swells and tears gather at his eyes as he claps happily, because this is it. This is the reason he’s here now. This is why he stole back his father’s technology from Vishkar, started a revolution in Rio de Janeiro and crossed the world to join Overwatch.

To help. To help build  _ peace. _

They get dragged into the peace celebrations, during their last night there. The party takes place in the streets, with food stands filled with local dishes for everyone and a playlist of samba, funk and rumba music. Lúcio dances, joyful and full of laughter, relishing on some of the classical rhythms of his childhood. He dances with men and women, flirting a little with each dance partner. A wink here, a contagious smile there. He’s just happy and carefree and, for one night, everyone pretends that peace is permanent and that Vishkar and other corporations aren’t big shadows looming over South America.

“Hey!” Lúcio calls out after the end of one of his favorite songs when he sees Lena and Fareeha standing next to a food table and laughing over beers. “Don’t think you’re getting out of here without dancing with me!”

Fareeha arches her eyebrow, leaving her beer can on the table, a crooked smile on her face. She crosses her arms, throwing him an amused look as Lena laughs next to her. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” Lúcio nods, making a come-hither motion. “C’mon, agents. Show me what you’ve got.”

Lena and Fareeha share a look then dramatically march towards Lúcio. An upbeat samba song plays on the background and Lúcio knows his friends are a lost cause as soon as they start dancing. He spends the rest of the dance trying to teach her some basic samba moves until he secretly deems them a lost cause.

By the end of the night, everything seems brighter than before. They go back to the watchpoint after being hugged, squeezed kissed and fed by everyone. A mantle of stars shines brightly above them, illuminating everything with gentleness. Lúcio decides to grab his sleeping bag and drag it to the roof of the building, too hot to stay inside. Fareeha and Lena join him later, and they look at the stars until sleep claims them.

The next day, a lump settles inside Lúcio’s throat when he thinks about saying goodbye. Their morning is spent debriefing Winston, delivering the coordinates for pickup, having a good breakfast full of leftovers from the party and packing their belongings.

As they leave the old watchpoint, Lúcio wonders when will he be able to come back. How long will it be until he sees Brazil again. If his people will fare better, if they’ll continue the fight, if they’ll finally chase Vishkar away for good, if they’ll force them out from every single corner of their land—

All his thoughts, all his doubts vanish and turn into background noise as soon as he hears kids laughing and then, soon after, a football is kicked his way. He kicks the ball back at them and the kids laugh and ask him to join them. He looks at the football field, doubtful until Fareeha pats him on the back and points at the screaming kids.

“One match,” she says, eyes mischievous. “And then we go home.”

Lúcio grins from ear to ear as Lena runs to steal the ball.

“One match, and then we go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](https://twitter.com/foldingcranes/).


End file.
